Cultural Significance
by LM
Summary: Justice League International vs. . . . chopsticks! Dum-da-DAAAAAA!


Inspired by my own struggles with chopsticks. ^_~

  


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**_Cultural Significance_**

"Okay, I got it, I got it, I--ARGH! I don't got it!"

"Take your time."

"No! No, look, it's okay, this time I've really--DAMN IT!!"

"Booster, you're _tense._ Calm down and . . . think zen thoughts or something."

"Look, like this, Booster. See? You just hold them like this--"

"I AM HOLDING THEM LIKE THAT!"

"No, you're holding them all sideways-y and off-center. Now just concentrate on the rice and--"

"I _AM_ CONCENTRATING ON THE SPROCKING RICE!"

"Language, language," Blue Beetle chided and received a murderous glare in response. Beetle sighed and leaned his chin on his hand as he watched Tora trying to show Booster Gold how to hold the two long, thing pieces of light wood. He had been working all morning at teaching Booster and Tora, aka Ice, how to use chopsticks. 

What with Ice being from a remote and isolated culture in the Himalayas or the Andes or _somewhere_ and Booster being from the 25th century, neither of them were very familiar with chopsticks. ("Isn't that the name of some piano piece?" Booster had asked, and that was the extent of his knowledge on the matter. In the 25th century most wood products were illegal, and plastic chopsticks just wouldn't be the same, Beetle supposed.) Since his friends now lived in 20th century New York City, Beetle had offered to teach them how to use chopsticks before they embarrassed themselves in any Chinese restaurants. At this point, Tora could awkwardly but effectively get the food to her mouth most of the time, if she sort of lunged at it at the very end. Not bad for a beginner.

Booster, on the other hand . . . he just could _not_ seem to get the hang of it, and his attempts kept sending rice scattering across the kitchen table. Seeing his best friend's mounting frustration, the glares he aimed at his plate of rice, and the way he gritted his teeth, Beetle knew this hadn't been a good idea.

It had been a _great_ idea.

"WHAT is so FUNNY?" Booster snarled, and Beetle quickly hid his rapidly widening grin with one blue-clad hand.

"I was just . . . thinking of a joke someone told me," he adlibbed.

"Was it the one about the guy who got stabbed to death with a pair of blunt wooden objects? Because I LOVE that one."

"Oh, Booster, it's not that bad. Look, you hold them like _this--"_ Tora said.

"I AM!!!"

Beetle decided he'd better step in before Booster forgot himself and started snapping at innocent little Ice. "Booster. Look. You have your two chopsticks, right?"

"Right . . ."

"Right. Now you hold one of them in the crook of your hand like this . . . I'm holding it there with these two fingers, see? And then you kind of control this one with _these_ two fingers and anchor it with your thumb, okay?"

"Anchor with thumb . . ." Booster muttered, using his other hand to push the chopsticks into the right position, more or less. 

"And now you just . . . pick stuff up, see?" Beetle reached over and scooped up a clump of rice. "Mmmm, delicious rice! And now I take another bite. Mmmm!"

Booster gave him a suspicious look, then very, very cautiously maneuvered his hand down until the tips of the chopsticks were resting on the edge of the plate. He tilted his head, seeming to consider his next move. Testingly, he moved the chopsticks in a pincer motion before awkwardly scooping up a mouthful of rice. Or trying to, anyway. The rice cascaded back to the plate as the chopsticks slipped and criss-crossed each other. 

"Okay, that was good. That was a good start. Now just--"

"It _wasn't_ good, Ted." Booster's voice rose. "If I were actually in a restaurant somewhere I'd be _starving to death_ and that is not GOOD!"

"You just need practice," Ice said encouragingly.

Booster grumbled incoherently in response and Beetle decided to try a different tact. 

"Okay, just imagine the chopsticks are extensions of your fingers--" Beetle began. 

"It's not working. No matter how hard I concentrate, they aren't flipping you off."

"Oh, hardy-har. Now if you can be serious for a minute . . . just imagine they're extensions of your fingers and--"

"No! I'm sick of this 20th century torture! If God had meant for human beings to use chopsticks, he wouldn't have invented forks!"

"I thought you were an atheist."

"Well, _somebody's_ out to get me," Booster snapped, dropping the two slender piece of wood on the table. "And don't think that I didn't see you SMIRKING, Beetle. I'll bet you made up this whole thing just to mess with my head!"

"Booster ol' buddy ol' pal, your head is sufficiently messed up without outside assistance. And anyway, _Ice_ picked it up like a pro." Beetle smiled reassuringly at Tora, but she was focused on Booster, worrying about him.

"But she has ice powers," Booster whined, without clarifying how ice powers would be of any help in this instance. "I'm just _normal."_

"Normal might be to strong of word," Beetle ventured. "And listen, I'm just trying to expand your horizons. I mean, don't you want to be able to eat Chinese food?"

"Why can't I eat Chinese food with a fork? We _had_ a lot of these dishes in the 25th century, we just ate them with forks."

_"Because,"_ Blue Beetle said with martyred patience, "If you use a fork in a Chinese restaurant it'll make you look like an uneducated, uncultured ignoramus."

Booster hesitated, trying to decide if Beetle was joking or not. "It will?"

"It will," Beetle assured him.

"Oh, Ted, that's not true!" Ice protested. "Booster, don't listen to him. It's perfectly acceptable to use forks in a Chinese restaurant and no one will think less of you."

"They won't?"

"They won't," she said, patting his arm in reassurance. "Why, Guy picked up Chinese take-out the other night and he told me he's _never_ used chopsticks and he doesn't intend 'to waste time learning.' So you see?"

_"Guy?" _Booster paused. "Guy _Gardner?"_

"That's right," Tora said, still smiling.

He stared at Ice with a perturbed expression for a minute or two before picking up the chopsticks and turning once more towards Beetle. "Show me again how you hold these things."

_The end!_


End file.
